


Post-it Notes

by redshineJasper (MrsPummeluff)



Series: Stucky OneShots [4]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Fluff, Howling Commandos Documentaries, Interrupted Wedding, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Nightmares, Open When Letters, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-it Notes, Steve Rogers Flirts, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve is reckless, Steve is recovering, Use of Post-it notes, self-depreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-06 04:22:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13403370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsPummeluff/pseuds/redshineJasper
Summary: They live together. One day Steve starts leaving notes all around the house for Bucky. Bucky adores them. Some make him remember, some are just great. Others make him laugh and happy. One day Bucky decides to return the favor.ORFirst, it had started one morning when Bucky had woken up after a nightmare-free night. But the decision to return the favor had struck after a bad night





	Post-it Notes

It started one morning when Bucky woke up after a nightmare-free night. These nights weren’t that rare anymore, but he would never take them for granted. Not when he was sure there would be another night where he would wake up, drenched in sweat and Steve Rogers wrapped around him who would whisper soothing words into his ears and Bucky would nearly rip Steve’s shirt off, trying to keep the blonde as close as possible while calming down, trying to remember where he was. That he was in Brooklyn, in their new apartment Steve had bought for them and which was made Hulk proofed by Tony before they had moved out of the Avengers Tower.

Hearing a light knock on his door he turned around, groaning. Right. Steve was awake already. Apparently back from his run. It had become a habit to check in on Bucky in the morning for Steve. He had explained it to him not long after moving into their own space that he tried not to, to leave Bucky his space, the space Steve thought Bucky deserved. But he’d do it automatically. It calmed his own mind Steve had said. And Bucky had shrugged and told him it didn’t bother him. Secretly, he thought it was kinda nice? Having someone check that he was still there. The door opened and Bucky flung one of his pillows towards the spot where he knew, Steve’s face would be. Or he hoped.

“The hell?” Steve asked, laughing instead of sounding angry.

“Stop being awake already. Or make yourself useful and bring me coffee.” Bucky grumbled and hid his face in the mattress underneath him.

“Sure.” He heard Steve mutter. “Whatever you want your highness.”

Bucky smiled secretly and flipped Steve off.

“Damn right. Now bring me my coffee and my crown, my humble servant.” The pillow he had thrown earlier landed back on his head and he snorted. “That’s pure maturity right there Rogers.”

“Shut up, Jerk.” Steve replied and Bucky heard his steps moving towards the kitchen. Shortly afterwards the opening of the cupboard and the sound of the coffee-machine working its magic. Bucky took a deep breath and turned around, lying on his back and staring onto the ceiling. His black top riding high on his hip, revealing his hip-bones and the rim of his boxer shorts, the blanket covering his hip, thigh and left leg, the right one lying on the mattress, bare and uncovered.

Staring at the ceiling he remembered how he wouldn’t have gone to bed with less than his pants, a long-sleeved shirt and at least three knives, one under the mattress, one on his bedside table and one under the pillow. The blanket always covering all of his body, not leaving one spot free. He had started to relax when they had moved away from the rest of the Avengers. Not that he didn’t trust them. But they weren’t Steve and while still a lot of his memories were missing he knew that Steve would die first before trying to hurt him. Steve had proved that on the Helicarrier in DC, when the Soldier had punched in his face and when Steve fell, Bucky had tried to grab him, pull him back up but had nearly toppled over. Steve had let got, falling into the water beneath them and Bucky had jumped, diving after the man who had shown him a kind of kindness the Winter Soldier didn’t deserve. When he and Steve were lying on the sandbank, watching the last Helicarrier crumble, the Soldier had given up. He knew he would die if he would go back or he would be found if he tried to leave now. He had given up control and the part of his brain that had recognized Steve, the part of his brain that had still been Bucky apparently, buried by fear and lost memories, had taken over.

At this point, the Soldier and Bucky had come closer, their memories mixing inside of the brain of James Buchanan Barnes. It had been confusing at times, figuring out which memory belonged to the Soldier and which to Bucky. It got easier. Is was easier now. Still missing so many memories with Steve and his family, but also with his time in HYDRA’s labs, Bucky had made peace with the mixed feelings.

He had went through hell and back and he had killed people more than he could count or remembered. But he knew that he, the Soldier, never had a choice. Being told everything he had done was right, killing was right. Being scared what would happen if he would fail a mission. Sometimes he pitied his other half. Other times, he was proud.

He had been through hell and back and still standing. Still here with Steve, over seventy years after their time, but still there. Together.

He had been through hell and back and was alive and getting better every day.

Steve came back into the room, smiling down at his best friend and stroked a bit of hair from Bucky’s face after setting down the cup of coffee on the nightstand on Bucky’s right. Then he picked up one of Bucky’s many pillows, because Bucky apparently was a pillow collector now, owning one from every Avenger and some TV-Shows he liked, and dropped it onto Bucky’s face.

Bucky snorted and Steve left the room, snickering.  
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, asshat!” Bucky called after him after removing the pillow from his face. Then he frowned at the red-golden Iron-Man mask. He should let Tony check out his arm again. He was sure he accidentally unplugged or ripped a cable when he was sparring with Steve yesterday. At least his little finger wasn’t really reacting the way it should. He would ask Steve to give Tony a call. Right after his coffee.

Right.

Coffee.

Steve had brought him Coffee.

Bucky sat up and leaned against the headboard, reaching after the mug which stood on a little, pink post-it note. Bucky cradled the mug in his hand, frowning at the note with Steve’s handwriting on it. He heard the shower in Steve’s bathroom start and took the paper from the table.

_We had a conversation like his in  ’35. You were so hungover and you woke up at like 1 in the afternoon. And you wore a stupid crown on your head. Never found out where it came from._

Bucky frowned as something in his brain sparked. Yeah. He didn’t really remember, but he knew it was true. Just a feeling in his gut. Not that he thought Steve would ever lie to him. Maybe he’d remember it one day and even if not, now he knew it had happened once. Maybe that it happened again was a good sign. Smiling Bucky drank his coffee, putting the note into the lowest, until then, empty drawer of his bedside table.

* * *

 

It became a regular occurrence for Bucky to find simple, pink post-it notes stuck like EVERYWHERE around the apartment. Some days none at all, other days three or four throughout the day.

A few days after the first a little note stuck at the washer when Bucky wanted to put his and Steve’s blue shirts into it.

_Once I had an asthma attack while doing laundry. Lucky me, you came home early and found me. It was a bad one. Then you put me on the couch and wouldn’t let me up and made the laundry yourself. Despite having a hard day at work. I was so mad at myself._

And Bucky felt a hand on his arm.  
“Buck? You back with me?”

The ex-Assassin shook his head. “What?”

“You’ve been in here for nearly an hour and I got worried.” Steve said and Bucky nodded, still grasping at the memory so clear in his head as if it had just happened. Then he focused on Steve and smiled at him.

“Memory… At least now I know where the need to make laundry all the time’s coming from.” Then he trust the laundry bin at Steve. “But you don’t have asthma anymore so you can do it once in a while.” With that and a cocky smile on his lips he left the room, Steve’s clear laugher following him into his bedroom where he put the second note to the first one.

Some notes were like this. Most of them were.

Some days Bucky would find notes on his weapons with stupid stuff like _Remember, I am your family now. A human. Not the weapons. Let’s do a movie tonight._

Or one of his favorites on a banana: _None of us eats them and we buy them anyways. Buck, do we forget where we came from?_ Which is basically that he doesn’t know where he really comes from, most of it just memories from far, far away. But to Steve it apparently didn’t matter because Bucky was Bucky, if he remembered or not. He was still joking with him. And Bucky was grateful. He didn’t need kid gloves.

Most of the time at least.

Sometimes Steve left him more memories. There was a handgun Bucky had as Winter Soldier. It was a very old one. It had so many scratches but he was certain that he had never used it as Winter Soldier. It was an old thing. Not precise enough for the Soldier. One day he found a note on it.

_I gave it to you before we founded the Howling Commandos. You never left the tent without it. Wouldn’t give it to anyone else besides me, sometimes not even me. Never thought you still have it._

Bucky had spent the whole day afterwards in his room, memories and thoughts from his time as Winter Soldier overwhelming him.  
When he HAD left his room in the evening, Steve was sitting on the couch like a deflated balloon. He had been crying, Bucky saw it. When the blonde felt the weight of Bucky’s metal hand on his shoulder he had let out a sob.  
“I’m sorry. I fucked up, didn’t I?” And that was the first time Bucky got a first glance at those demons his friend really battled inside of him. “I shouldn’t push you. I’ve always made everything worse.” Steve had said. “I’ve always dragged you down with me. And in the end, it made you fall. Literally.”

Bucky had wrapped the younger man into his arms and had mumbled soothing nonsense into his hair. And Steve had fallen asleep like that. But never once, not even when Bucky had put him to bed, he had let go of Bucky’s shirt.

It had been a sleepless night for Bucky, being on high alert in case Steve woke up. Steve’s sleep was restless, turning from one side to the other, sometimes tears streaming over his face in his sleep, sometimes shaking from whatever he was dreaming about. His grip was tight on Bucky’s Shirt throughout the night and Bucky soothed him when he was sobbing or a distressed sound left his throat.

Steve had stayed asleep though.

When morning had dawned, Steve had pulled himself closer to Bucky, pressed his face into Bucky’s side and not dared to open his eyes, pleas, that Bucky really was there and it wasn’t another dream, spilling over his lips until Bucky had slid down to lie next to Steve and forced his friend to look him into the eyes and told him, he’d never leave again. That he had no reason to. That he was where he wanted to be.

That he was grateful for what Steve had done and it only were good things that came from these notes. The Winter Soldier was just as much of a part of him now as his time before the train.

Steve had snuggled closer into Bucky, wrapping himself in both of Bucky’s arms, the cool metal a contrast to Steve’s warm skin. Warm given by Bucky through the night.

* * *

 

After that, there was a time where Steve just didn’t leave any notes at all. Mostly because they were on a mission for days, helping what was left of SHIELD to retrieve artifacts that had actually belonged to the Chitauri (in case of New York) or the dark Elves (in case of London) or anything else.

Then, coming back to their apartment, it was March 9th. Steve ushered the ex-Assassin into the shower.

“And afterwards you go to bed. You need sleep.”

“Steve. You slept just as much as I did and you need it too. Just ‘cause it’s my birthday tomorrow doesn’t mean…” Bucky stopped, staring at Steve wide eyed. “Tomorrow is my birthday.” He whispered. Steve nodded.

“Please. I’ve planned this day for three months. And I prayed every day during the last week that we’ll make it back in time. Please.” Steve looked at his friend with huge, sad blue eyes and Bucky snorted.

“Yeah. Okay. Of course, punk. Just this once.” Steve nodded enthusiastically and pushed him into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly. Bucky had scrubbed down the remnants of their last fight, thoughts going back to when he had taken over as Steve’s sniper today, Barton covering the other entry point where Natasha and Tony had been stationed. It had felt so familiar and yet so strange.

When he had shut down the shower, he found a pink note stuck to the mirror. Had he not noticed Steve coming in?

Since there was a whole bunch of clothes for Bucky on the closed toilet seat, he apparently had been. But Bucky’s body had long stopped recognizing Steve’s presence as a threat and Steve’s presence was a constant, like the knife underneath some of the plates of his metal arm. Slipping into the sweatpants he took a closer look at the note.

_In the war you always covered my back. I may or may not have accidentally given your position away once or twice. Or more. But I didn’t today. See. I can learn._

And Bucky smiled, pressing the note against his chest for a minute. If he wouldn’t know any better he would thing Steve was trying to flirt with him. But Steve couldn’t flirt to save his life.

Exiting the bathroom, the ex-Assassin went straight into his room, calling out to Steve that he would go to bed now as promised and closed the door behind him. Curling up in his bed he tried to shake off the pictures that flooded his mind.

Pictures from himself and Steve in the war, Bucky in trees or on higher ground, taking out HYDRA Soldiers before they saw any of the commandos, taking out Soldiers that came too close to Steve when he didn’t notice. That one day he would never forget where one of them nearly got to the Commandos with a grenade. He had taken him out, just in time and the Commandos had made their escape while Steve, stupid, reckless Steve Rogers had made his way into the base, only covered by Bucky who swore under his breath after every goon he took out. Steve barely made it out after planting Dum Dum’s explosives and when he was out, the facility burst into flames. Bucky had run down from his spot, tossing his rifle towards Morita and run straight towards their Captain, who just smiled at him sheepishly.

Bucky had pulled his little handgun and Steve his shield while Bucky emptied his whole magazine, a hollow sound every time a bullet hit the Vibranium.

As hollow as Bucky had felt, leaving Steve in Brooklyn.

As hollow as Bucky had felt being in the field.

As hollow as Bucky had felt before Steve had gotten him out of Zola’s lab.

As hollow as Bucky felt right in this moment, nearly losing Steve. Nearly losing his sunshine once again.

Because, he, the real he, the one 70 years later in Brooklyn, realized, that was what Steve had been all along. The bright light in Bucky’s soul.

When the magazine had been empty and Steve had smiled at him brightly, his hand had connected with Steve’s cheek and he had yelled at him.

“How dare you to go in there alone without backup?”

“I had you.”

“You can’t trust me to keep you safe.”

“I always did and you always manage.”

“You idiot. What when I am not there anymore.”

He saw Steve’s heart break.

“Then what would it even matter anymore, right?”

And with that the blonde had pushed past Bucky and they hadn’t spoken for hours. When the night fell, the Commandos in their tents, Steve had sat down next to Bucky on a log in front of the fire.

“You can’t leave me alone again, Buck.” He had said after a while and his voice sounded flat, broken. Defeated. Like the time when his mom just had died and Steve had been on his own.

“I know. But this is war Steve. You never know.”

“I DO know because I will do everything I can to keep you safe. And if I can’t keep you alive how can I safe anyone else?”

Bucky had shrugged and only noticed 70 years later what Steve had said.

_If I can’t keep you alive how can I safe anyone else?_

If you can’t save what’s most important to you, how do you want to save everything else? How can you save anything that doesn’t have any value when you are alone? Because as much as the Commandos, Peggy, Howard and everyone else were their friends, Steve and Bucky were inseparable. And without the other, nothing would mean anything anymore.

Bucky knew that feeling, that sentiment.

Pulling the blanket tighter around himself, he drifted asleep, memories from around the campfire with Steve and the Commandos resurfacing and coming back to him. Memories, looking through a scope and scanning the area around the blue figure. No memories of the Winter Soldier and he stays asleep.

The smell of Bacon wakes Bucky from a night at a pub in London. He was sitting next to Steve, the blonde asking him if he was ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death.

“Morning.” Bucky murmurs and lifts his face from the pillow beneath him.

“Morning.” The mattress besides Bucky dips as Steve sat down, clatter when he sits the plate and mug down on the nightstand. Bucky turns around, looking up to his friend. “Happy Birthday, Buck.”

“Happy Birthday to me. I’ll take my present now.” He says and wraps his arms around Steve’s waist, pulling him down onto him and pins him down by wrapping his legs around Steve’s and burrows his face in Steve’s neck. Steve wriggled in his grasp that he could wrap his arms around Bucky and so they laid in Bucky’s bed, tangled up in one another like they always had on their birthdays. No matter if it had been in Brooklyn or during the war.

“Thought you wanted to get your present.” Steve voices after a while, grinning.

“Have it in my arms right now.”

“What?” Steve asked, dumbfounded.

“Steve. I get my memories back day by day. I got you back. What more could I ask for on my birthday?” Bucky lifted his head, looking Steve into his eyes. Steve’s lip quirked up. His eyes shone happy down into Bucky’s.

“But I made breakfast.” He gestured towards the nightstand.

“You really still are the little Punk from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight.” Bucky said quietly, smiling and dipped his head back onto Steve’s chest. He didn’t see Steve paling.

“What? You… you remember that?” he asked. Bucky nodded.

“More and more from during the war comes up when we are out in the field. More now that I was covering your ass with a rifle again instead of standing next to you yesterday.”

“And it… it doesn’t…” Steve stuttered and Bucky shoved him lightly, sitting up and retrieving the cup of coffee from the nightstand. Yet again he noticed the self-depreciating answers, the insecure looks.

He had noticed it more and more over the past months. Steve always so insecure about himself, not giving himself the credit he deserved, not even close. Never sure of his ideas, his status, anything. It was such a difference between Steve Rogers and Captain America.

Steve Rogers wasn’t the little punk from Brooklyn anymore. Not really. Steve Rogers became quiet, insecure. Sad. The Steve Rodgers he knew only came in the form of Captain America. Steve had been right all these months ago. Bucky wasn’t the guy from Brooklyn anymore and he wasn’t either. Somewhere, at some point, these two people got lost. Maybe it had been on that train in the Alpes, somewhere between his own fall and Steve crashing the plane into the ocean, sacrificing himself for everyone.

But maybe it was good this way. These people didn’t belong into this century. But they did. The people they were now. They both had to find their place in this brave new world. Bucky just had to help Steve, just like Steve had helped Bucky.

“Shut up, punk. I am fine.” Bucky said smiling and sipped his coffee. Steve sat up, legs crossed and facing Bucky, reflecting the happiness, Bucky felt.

“Jerk.” He said and stole the cup from the metal fingers. Bucky scowled at him playfully.

“Hey. Gimme my birthday Coffee back. ”

“Nope.” Steve replied, popping the p. Bucky snorted amused and let his knee touch Steve’s. The blonde smiled happily.

* * *

 

Sitting at the table in the evening after the rest of the Team left from Bucky’s birthday dinner (organized by Tony) they sipped the rest of their beers in mutual silence, Bucky smiling into the bottle.

“Thank you.” He said, Steve looked up and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Care to clarify?” Bucky smiled shyly.

“For everything. For surviving. Not giving up on me. Bringing me back. Being here. For it all. Dunno where I’d be. Maybe even thanks for becoming a scientific experiment. Would have died if it wouldn’t have been for you.”

Steve smiled sadly.

“Yeah. You’d be lost without me.” He joked, but it fell flat. He smiled self-deprecatingly. Bucky shook his head.

“I’d be. And I mean it.” He replied earnestly and Steve smiled a bit more truthful. Then he stood up and pulled a little box out of one of the kitchen shelves.

“Your present. I forgot it earlier this morning.” He let it slide over the smooth surface. Bucky opened it and pulled a bunch of letters out.

_Open when the mission was rough_

_Open when you had a nightmare and I didn’t notice_

_Open when we have a fight (I really hope you’ll never open this one)_

And many more. He knew the concept of Open When letters. They had that back in the 30’s too. Hell, he even had joked about Steve giving him some before he’ll ship out for war.

“I… I hope you don’t mind. I just… I promised you, when you enlisted. And I even made some. But I never gave them to you. They weren’t finished. I wanted to send them over. But…” Steve rambled and Bucky shut him up, wrapping his arms around the blonde.

“Thank you, Stevie.” Bucky’s hot breath next to Steve’s ear made him shiver. But he pulled his friend closer. It would never be enough to make up for 70 years but it was a good start, Steve was sure of it.

 

* * *

 

 

First, it had started one morning when Bucky had woken up after a nightmare-free night. But the decision to return the favor had struck after a bad night. One of Steve’s bad nights more specifically.

Bucky had been pulled out of his sleep when he had heard a thunk against the wall in the bedroom on the other side of the hallway. Steve’s bedroom. Followed by the unmistakable sound of something shattering. Not a window, not by far, but maybe one of Steve’s bed lamps?

Crawling out of bed he retrieved one of the knives in his nightstand, not knowing what had happened. The lights in the hallway were out, no light shone underneath the door. Light whimpering sounds reached his ear and Bucky inched forward, leaving the knife on the floor in front of his room. He knew what it was.

Carefully he opened the door, taking in the shattered bedside lamp on the floor, the broken wood of the headboard, the ripped pillow and Steve thrashing in his bed, fighting something only he saw in his dream.

“Take my hand.” He whimpered and Bucky frowned.

“I won’t let you fall again.” A choked sob escaped Steve and Bucky felt himself rushing forward. It wasn’t the usual “you fell and I re-lived it”. This was different. It was a nightmare of it happening again in another situation, another time. And Bucky wouldn’t let Steve live in this dream one second longer.

“Steve. I’ve got you.” He gripped the blonde’s hand tightly and pulled him closer, pinning him down with his body. “Wake up and come back to me.”

Steve woke with a startled sob and buried his face in Bucky’s chest. Crying, whimpering. Choked off pleas for forgiveness and promises to never let him fall again spilling out of his mouth and Bucky just waited for Steve to calm down, to wake up more and realize what Bucky even is saying, rocking the blonde back and forth.

“Steve?” he tried after a while.

“Yeah Buck?”

“You know it was just a dream, right. I am right here and believe me, pal. I’ve never been mad. Not your fault I was so heavy the handle broke.”

Steve’s throat left a sob again.

“Don’t say that.”

“Why?” Bucky challenged. “You the only one who’s allowed to make deprecating jokes about themselves?”

“You shouldn’t—Not your fault.” Steve mumbled and pressed his face tighter into the muscle of Bucky’s stomach.

“Not yours either. Blame HYDRA, but not yourself.”

“But if I—”

“None of that, Stevie. Come on. I get us a Coffee and order Thai.” He took the remote from the night stand. “Put on whatever you want on Netflix.” The turned on the TV, showing the big, red Netflix logo and threw the remote onto the bed next to Steve.

“Buck—“ Steve croaked behind him and Bucky turned around.

“I’ll be back in a minute. You will be fine, big boy.” Steve slumped back into the pillow, beginning to search through Netflix while Bucky turned on the coffee maker and called the 24-hour Thai place around the corner, ordering the usual. The boys at the place knew what the two Super soldiers would get at two in the morning. There was this one delivery boy at the place who by now already knew to climb the fire escape and leave the food in front of their living room window, knock once and leave again. They’d pay their food the next time they ordered during the day and leave an extra big tip for the delivery boy.

When he returned to Steve’s bedroom with two cups of coffee, the ripped pillow was gone, the lamp shards in the trash can behind the door and Steve was trying to cover up the hole in the headboard.

“We should get a new bed for you.” Bucky stated and Steve whimpered. Sitting down next to the blonde, he left the coffee next on the nightstand and pulled Steve closer onto his lap and let the blonde bury his face in his neck. “You know this is nothin’, right?” he didn’t just mean the headboard and Steve knew it.

“We were on a mission… HYDRA base in Austria. The base was exploding and… you remember when I got you out of Zola’s lab?” Bucky nodded. Some nights he dreamed about it. Steve not making the jump, falling… “You got almost over the bridge, when it collapses. Held on and tried to pull yourself up. I jumped over the gap, over to get to you, pull you up. But just when I got a grasp at your hand… the metal… it… And your whole shoulder…” Steve let out another sob, his hand gripping Bucky’s left shoulder “I had your arm… but you… I promised you I wouldn’t let you fall again. But I saw the metal splitting and the… then you woke me up. I can’t lose you again, Buck.”

“You won’t Stevie. And if, it will be Stark's fault. He made the new arm. If it can’t handle a little bit of climbing, he maybe isn’t the genius we thought he is.” Bucky smiled and even Steve chuckled a bit.

“I’ll try to remember that.” He whispered.

“Yeah. You do that.” Bucky petted Steve lightly, then looked at the TV screen. Steve had chosen one of the few Howling Commandos documentaries available. He liked them since they didn’t only focus on him. They showed so many moments of the Commandos, they had the Commandos doing commentary and telling Stories about their glorious and sometimes reckless leader.

(“More often than not. Believe me if I tell you, every time Barnes tried to tell him not to do it, Cap would just think *beep* it and do it anyways. Barnes would shoot him these disapproving glances when Rogers would be back, bruised and the one or other rip healing, and then he would sulk when Barnes migrated into one of our tents for the next days.” Dum Dum on the screen tells the viewers and Steve smiled at his, eyes swimming in tears and Bucky would pull him closer.

“Don’t think I won’t move out for a while when you keep that up.” He always says and Steve always clings tighter and sometimes he would pout and again Bucky would see the little kid from Brooklyn who just couldn’t keep his mouth shut when someone was picking on others.)

Not long before Falsworth would talk about their mission in the Alps, the explosion of the train and Steve coming back alone, Steve fell asleep.

Bucky would watch his old friend retelling the day, his memory from another viewpoint and even Monty’s voice would crack every time he recited Steve’s exact words when he was back from the train.

“He… I failed him.”

And then he would tell the viewer exactly how Steve’s face fell, how the great and strong Captain Steven Grant “America” Rogers would break down, no tear shed but a bitter silence. When no one dared to speak to him because, yeah, all of them had lost a brother here and there. But no one had lost what Steve had lost that day. Steve hadn’t only lost his childhood friend that day.

“He had also lost every respect he had for himself. He blamed himself on Barnes fall. Hated himself in this moment. I knew the look in his face.” Gabe, who sat right next to Falsworth, would take over. “I had seen that look on my friends often enough. Barnes had saved his life back in Brooklyn so many times. Had never given up on Steve getting through any sickness. He told us so much before we were all taken prisoner. When we were just the 107th. And Steve wouldn’t be able to repay any of that anymore. He freed him, us all, from the Nazis back in Italy. Bucky saved his life for years every day over and over again in Brooklyn. Cap could now never ever repay him that.”

“Bucky wasn’t only his brother, I think.” Dum Dum would tell after a cut. “I think they were the closest to a wed partner you could get. I couldn’t see any of them with a lady, not even Rogers and Agent Carter”, he winked at the women right next to him, “because even if there wasn’t anything romantically between the both of them, they were devoted to one another. And if you can’t even save your other half—“

“How are you supposed to save a world?” Peggy ended. She smiled and it was a secretive smile. Maybe she had always known about the feelings Bucky held for Steve. The Commandos had. Hell, most of the 107th had known how he felt for ‘Stevie’ but only later the Commandos had made the connection and hadn’t stopped teasing Bucky about it. Teasing in a good way. A nice teasing.

* * *

 

When the sun shone into Steve’s bedroom and woke the blonde out of his sleep, he was alone in his bed, the TV turned off but quiet music playing through his stereo. A cup of Coffee, a fresh cup of Coffee on his bedside table and a little, pink post-it note next to it.

_You know. I always was and always will be happy it was me, not you. But I am not happy how much it had hurt you. But if it would happen again, I would always fall for you. Because I did fall for you all my life. Even when I didn’t know you._

Steve smiled at the note and began to sip his coffee when the last words registered in his mind. His eyes were big and he re-read the note a few more times and he was sure, no it couldn’t mean… but it was Bucky and Bucky always had a way with words. Especially now, when he spoke so rarely. He always chose his words carefully nowadays. He wouldn’t have phrased it like that, if he wouldn’t have meant it, right?

Getting out of bed slowly, the blonde made his ways towards the kitchen, passing Bucky’s open door, but no Bucky inside. But the running shoes next underneath his window were missing. So he was out on a run possibly. He entered the kitchen, spotting a few more pink post-it notes on the table.

_Dum Dum was right in the video, when he talks about us in the end. You know which part I mean, right?_

_Hell. I could never see myself going steady with a dame. Not ever in my life. Because every time I was scared we would drift apart and I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you alone. If you would have found one, hell when I thought you found her in Agent Carter…_

_I would have left you, maybe found a place for myself. But every time I tried to imagine myself with a dame… there was you. It had been you all along._

_You were the mission HYDRA gave the Winter Soldier.  
You were Bucky’s mission all along. _

_(And now, because I feel like a sap, I am going to outrun Sam. I think he is doing his rounds rn. Be back later with a bird and food.)_

Steve snorted and something in his chest eased. The fear he had since he was thirteen, since Bucky started going out with dames, had eased and was gone completely. What Bucky had said in these letters, him getting married and leaving Steve behind—

It had been Steve’s biggest fear his whole life. That maybe had been why he had crashed the plane into the ocean. Peggy had been his best friend in the most platonic way. But Bucky had been his world. And what no one except Peggy had known had been the picture of Bucky on the other side of hers in the compass. And right before the plane had crashed he had taken the compass and pressed his against his chest, the two most important people during the war, right here with him.

He poured himself a new cup of coffee when the door to apartment opened and Bucky entered, carrying three bags followed by Sam who carried two more.

“Honey, I’m home.” Bucky said, smiling and put the bags from the diner around the corner onto the table. “And I brought a bird, as promised.” He pointed towards Sam and then disappeared into his room, getting changed.

“What put you in such a mood? Thought the Terminator mentioned you having a nightmare last night.”

“HEY! I am much cooler than this guy from Austria!” they heard from Bucky’s room and Steve smiled at Sam, shrugging.

“I think a few things start to clear up. Things both of us carry around since before the war.”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“If you two need to talk, I can go.” He pointed at the door. “Don’t want to intrude.” He held up both his hands. Steve shook his head.

“Don’t think there is much to talk about. Now get changed, I think you left a pair of jeans and a shirt here the last time you stayed over.”

“Didn’t Clint puke all over it?”

“Do you think we keep it full of puke in our apartment?” Bucky snorted, re-entering the kitchen and taking the plates from Steve, he had gotten out of the cupboard.

“Point.” Sam admitted.

“Closet in the hallway. Not much in there.” Steve pointed out and handed Bucky the Coffee and two more mugs.

“Thanks.” He said and put them on the table, then taking the food out of the boxes in the bags.  
“You’re welcome, honey.” Steve smiled and Bucky looked up. Taking in Steve’s small smile he understood what the blonde was trying to say. They knew each other to well, to misunderstand stuff like that.

“Wilson!” Bucky called out. “Movie tonight? I think we will have something to celebrate.”

Sam came back into the kitchen and raised an eyebrow. Steve cocked his head in confusion.

“You think?”

“Well… Either we celebrate an engagement or we mourn that Steve refused to marry me.”

Sam stared at the two Super Soldiers wide eyed. Steve choked on air.

“Buck!” he protested. Challenging, the older smirked.

“Then tell me. What were you trying with these notes the past few months? Don’t tell me they were just to jog my memories.” Steve mumbled something and even though Bucky could hear it clearly he asked Steve to repeat it a bit louder.

“I think… I was trying… I think I was trying to… I’m flirting with you.” He stuttered and Bucky smirked.

“And see, it worked man. He wants to marry you already. And you wanted me to be your wingman. You don’t even need it. You should be mine.” Sam snorted and Steve blushed a dark shade of red.

“So. Should we invite them all to celebrate or do I have to get Sam, Clint and Natasha for Ice Cream and Sad Movies?”

Steve sighed, face still a dark shade of red.

“Tell Stark to bring Champagne.” And he sat down, sipping his coffee and munching the bacon, Bucky and Sam had brought back.

“Good. I’ll text them.” Bucky said, leaving a black velvet box next to Steve’s mug and disappeared into his room again to retrieve his phone.

“Maybe you should text JARVIS. He’ll let them know.” Sam offered and sat down next to Steve, smiling at him encouragingly.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“And that’s how they got engaged. In front of me. And Steve wanted me to be his Wingman.” Sam finished and Steve heard Tony stifle a laugher and Clint whisper “Sam, the Wingman.” In an amused tone to Natasha.

“Yeah. I know. That one will never get old.” Bucky grinned brightly and everyone raised their glasses.

“To Steve and Bucky.” Pepper said.

“May you continue to fight together in this new century just like you did during the War.” Phil offered and Clint nodded.

“May you have a fulfilling marriage.” He added.

“And may you satisfy each other…” Natasha clapped her hand over Thor’s mouth and smiled brightly.

“May you be happy, blah blah blah. Cheers.” Tony concluded happily and everyone toasted on the newlywed couple while the sun shone bright above their heads and the people of New York continued their life’s as they usual did after another attack from Dr. Doom, while the Avengers sat on top of the Stark Tower, still in combat gear after a crashed wedding.

(Though Bucky was really proud that they had managed to exchange their vows while fighting robots and kiss each other after Steve beheaded one of them while he swore to protect Bucky from every threat and from everything that stood in their way.

Luckily JARVIS had filmed the whole ceremony.)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. My beta said it was her favorite so far, even though I thought it was weird. Re-reading it, I can confirm: It is better than I thought in the beginning.  
> I really hope you liked it, leave a comment, it'd make me extra happy. 
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://fangirl-faye.tumblr.com) if you want.


End file.
